Erase and Rewind
by WildFlower084
Summary: What if you woke up one morning to find you had gone back in time? If life gave you a second chance, would you take it? But the question is, would you believe? - Sequel to My Bones, My Lesson
1. Prologue: The Phone Call

**A/N: It's better to read "My Bones, My Lesson" before reading this one. Also, this story was actually written a few years back, in 2008. After re-reading it on the site today, I decided that I wanted to continue it, but that the current chapters still needed some work. I know it is now 3 years later, but I am not going to change the characters or the storyline to fit what has happened since what I'm pretty sure is season 3. Basically, that means you will see Zach's name and Cullen's name often. But I guess no one will complain about Zach being in the story, huh? **

**Disclaimer: I own nothin' except the plot!**

* * *

_What is that annoying beeping by my bed?_

Groaning loudly, I threw my arm over to the nightstand and hit the _off_ button. Instantly, my alarm went quiet.

It couldn't be morning already; I have just gone to sleep. Memories of the previous night flashed before my eyes: the baseball game, the long and hot shower, the tossing and turning, and finally the moment I had fell asleep. It has been around 2 a.m., putting an end to the numbing pain I have been feeling for the last couple of weeks.

It had just another dreamless sleep, just like every other ones I'd experienced since Bones had died. Mornings were the worst: on my best days, I pretended getting ready to go off to work with my partner, solving crimes, arresting criminals and contributing to make the world a better and safer place; on my worst days, like this morning, I saw my life as it really was: sad and lonely.

I guess I couldn't really complain. I mean, I had gotten off pretty easily. The jury had decided that the accident had been, in fact, an _accident_. Following that verdict, the judge had decided that losing a friend and a six-month probation during which the slightest driving misconduct would cause me to have my driver's license revoked was a far better punishment than time spent in prison. I considered myself lucky. All I had to do now was to drive like an old lady: making full stop signs, stopping at red lights and absolutely no driving over the speed limit.

Five weeks had gone since the sentence, ten weeks since the accident. I still had five months of probation ahead and didn't know how many more weeks until the pain of losing Bones would be gone. Losing her was the worst thing that could have happened to me. If only I could hear her voice once more, hear her laughter; if only she could look at me with her bright blue eyes. If only… If only I hadn't gone out with Erin that night. Maybe Bones would still have been alive. Every night, I prayed in vain for a second chance. Every night, I prayed for the strength to go on.

I managed to drag myself out of bed. A show and a cup of coffee later, I was ready to start my day. My sleep-fogged brain had cleared and the numbness had returned. This day would be like every other, except today, I had a meeting with Cullen. He had some important news to share with me.

* * *

As always, traffic was horrible in this time of day but I did manage to make it to the office in a decent time. As I stepped out of the elevator, I heard a voice behind me.

"Seeley!"

I gulped, recognizing Erin's voice. We hadn't spoken since the accident, passing each other often in the hallway but never uttering a word.

"Hey Erin," I said, slowly turning to face her.

She walked over to me. She held a Styrofoam cup in her hand, filled with coffee. I resisted the urge to tell her that she shouldn't be drinking that if she cared for her health but, instead, said nothing.

She took a sip of her coffee and made a face as she swallowed.

"Urgh! Who makes the coffee here? It's disgusting!"

I let out a low chuckled.

"Yeah, I know."

Deciding that I had had enough of this awkward meeting in front of the elevator, I decided to walk away.

"Booth, I meant to ask you something."

I stopped in my tracks, suddenly feeling a sense of déjà-vu. I turned around to look at her. She squirmed uncomfortably under my glare. I quickly apologized.

"It's okay. It's just that I was already nervous about asking you this, and the way you were looking at me was making it worse. Anyway, listen. I know this will seem to come out of nowhere, especially since we haven't spoken in a while, but, there's this French restaurant that just opened near my place. It's called La Saveur. Since we're Friday, I was wondering if you would like to go with me."

I eyed her suspiciously. What was she talking about? She has already asked me that question. I had already told her yes. We had gone; we had eaten at that restaurant and then I had driven back to her apartment.

"Erin, you've already asked me that question. We already went to that restaurant."

She was now looking at me strangely.

"What do you mean, we already went? It opened last week. Everyone is talking about it. It's supposed to be really fancy and expensive."

"I know, it was all over the news. Erin, we went there ten weeks ago, the night of the accident. How can you not remember?"

I was getting annoyed. Maybe I shouldn't have gone out with her. Maybe she was this strange, crazy woman who pretended to have amnesia or something. Or, maybe, she was schizophrenic. I'd have to ask Sweets.

"What accident?"

She looked genuinely confused. Yet, I couldn't understand how she couldn't remember. She had been in the car with me, had seen the total mess that had been Bones' car, and had answered all of the police's questions. Why was she faking not to know what I was talking about?

I was about to answer her when my cellphone rang. Excusing myself, I grabbed it from my pocket and glanced at the caller ID. My heart stopped. This couldn't be right. My brain was playing tricks on me. It couldn't be…

I stood still, my hand clutched around my ringing cellphone.

"Aren't you going to get that?" Erin asked, pointing at my cellphone.

I looked up at my colleague who was still bearing a worried expression. Gulping, I looked back down at the screen.

_It can't be._

With shaking hands, I flipped my phone open and brought it to my ear.

"Booth."


	2. Chapter 1: A Weird Kind of Morning

I half-expected the name on my caller ID to be a figment of my imagination, produced by my lack of sleep and my intense desire to have my partner back, but the voice was undeniable. Bones was calling me.

"Hey Booth, it's me."

Shivers ran down my spine. I hadn't heard that voice in ten weeks. It felt like music to my ears. But as quickly as the feeling of happiness had swept over me, reality came crashing in. Bones was _dead_. I had _killed_ her. This couldn't be real. It had to be a dream. It just had to.

"Bones?"

My voice was unsure and I thought I heard her sigh in irritation on her side of the line.

"Of course it's me. Who else would be calling you from _my_ cell phone?"

_But you're dead_, I wanted to say. I turned around to see Erin still eyeing me worriedly. Mouthing the word "sorry", I quickly made my way to my office, my heart beating rapidly inside my chest. It wasn't making any sense. Bones was dead. She couldn't be talking to me, right now.

"Booth, are you still there?"

Closing the door of my office behind me, I let out a quiet sigh.

"Yeah, Bones. I'm still here."

My throat felt dry and my hands were still shaking. But saying her name, as surreal as the situation was, soothed me. I hadn't said her name out loud since the accident. Even though ten weeks had past, her name was still a taboo in the lad. One day, I had made the mistake of talking about her and their reaction had been… intense. Angela had seem on the verge of crying, Zach's stare had turned glassy and empty, and Hodgins had barked at me to never speak of her again before walking away, leaving us all stunned by his coldness.

"Are you okay? Your voice sounds weird."

Her tone betrayed the worry she felt towards me. I couldn't but feel comforted by that thought.

"I'm fine, Bones. Was there something you wanted to tell me?"

"Actually, there was," she replied, suddenly excited. "Angela has finished her sketch of our Jane Doe. I'm sending you the picture right now. Maybe you could look through the missing person's database to find a match?"

By now, my throat had gone past the point of dryness and my heart was no longer beating in surprise, but now, in mild anger. The conversation was the same. The day of the accident, Bones had called me with the same request. Either someone was playing a very nasty trick on me or I was losing my mind. I tilted for the second option.

"Listen!" I suddenly snapped. "I don't know who you are or why you are doing this. My partner is _dead_. I have no clue how you got hold of her cellphone, but it's not funny. I cannot be talking to my partner, especially not about a case that has been solved for a month now."

I was breathing heavily, both from the anger and from speaking really fast. I was tempted to hang up, yet my hand seemed unable to let it go. A force was driving me to listen to that sweet voice I had been dying to hear for the longest time.

The impersonator seemed lost at words. Silence filled the other side of the line.

"Booth, what are you talking about? We found the victim yesterday. And I'm clearly alive sine I'm standing here talking to you and I can assure you that I haven't died over the last couple of weeks."

Her tone was matter-of-factly, but I was still sure someone was imitating her. She was _dead_.

"Listen, Bones. I'm sorry. Send me the Angela's sketch and I'll try to look through the database after my meeting with Cullen. I don't know how much time I will have, I have to pick up Parker at school for his doctor's appointment."

"But Parker's doctor's appointment isn't for another ten weeks. Besides, Cullen is gone on vacation and won't be back for another week."

"What are you talking about? I spoke to Cullen yesterday. He said to meet him in his office this morning. He had something important to tell me."

Why was I even arguing with this person?

"Booth, are you sure you're okay? Maybe you need to take some time off."

I was about to tell that stranger to leave me alone when the door to my office opened. I looked up to find Derek Crane staring at me.

"The meeting's in five, Booth."

"What meeting?" I asked, confused.

Crane was usually the guy in charge when Cullen wasn't around. If Cullen was here, why was _Crane_ summoning me to a meeting?

"The meeting in which we will appoint someone to represent the Bureau at the all-state FBI reunion in Florida."

My heart skipped a beat. _I_ had already been appointed to represent the Bureau at the annual all-state. I was beginning to feel a headache coming on. I simply nodded numbly at Crane who closed the door and disappeared down the hallway. I was suddenly aware of the cellphone still in my hand.

"Listen, Bones. I have to go, but I'll stop by the lab later today, okay? Then you can show me whatever it is that you found."

I hung up before the stranger had the chance to answer. If it really were Bones, then she would be at the lab, right?

Resting my head in the palm of my hands, I thought about this morning's events. Nothing made any sense: Erin had asked me out to a restaurant we had already been to claiming we had never gone; Bones, who was supposed to be dead, had called to talk about a cause another FBI agent had already solved while I had a few weeks off after the accident; and Crane had summoned me to a meeting that had already taken place.

I still had a few minutes before the meeting. Crane's meetings never started on time. I turned on my computer. I would check my emails, then I would make my way to the conference room to attend the _already-attended_ meeting.

There weren't that many emails in my inbox. Rebecca had sent me one, telling me Parker was fine, that his stomach aches were gone and that maybe we ought to cancel his doctor's appointment. I replied immediately that the doctor's office needed a 24-hour notice for any cancellation or else there would be a fine to pay, not realizing that Parker had had two episodes of stomach aches, one recent, and another one around the time of the accident.

I moved on to the next message. My mom was writing about my dad's birthday party, which would be held the following Wednesday, instead of the Tuesday because Jared wouldn't be able to make it on Tuesday. I frowned. I distinctly remembered telling my mom I wasn't going to my dad's party, that Jared could go if he wanted to, but I already had plans. Of course, I had lied, but… Besides, my dad's birthday was in September. October was now long gone and we had slowly crept into November a few days ago.

Scrolling up, I checked the date and time of the email: September 17th, 9:34 pm.

I blinked in disbelief. This _has_ to be another figment of my imagination. How could a message I had replied to months ago be unread, at the top of my email list? I examined the other emails present in my Inbox. All of them were marked September 17th and older. How could that be? Had someone erased the more recent messages in my Inbox?

I dragged my cursor to the right bottom of my screen and double-clicked on the clock. The hands now showed 8:03 am. I looked over at the small calendar beside it: September 18th was highlighted.

I sunk back in my chair and rubbed my face with my two hands. If this was a dream, I was bound to wake up soon. If someone was playing a joke on me, it was pretty cruel. If it were none of these things, then what was happening to me? Had I somewhat been thrown back in time? If so, how? And who?

I was already late for the staff meeting. Whatever was going on, it was going to have to wait a little. Getting to my feet, I hurried out of my office and to the elevator.

"Hey."

I jumped, startled.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

Erin was smiling at me, though I detected a hint of worry in her eyes.

"You left kind of fast."

"I know. Look, I'm sorry. Dr. Brennan needed to talk to me about this case we're working on."

Erin nodded.

"You still didn't give me an answer for tonight. Do you want to go to the restaurant?"

The elevator doors slid open and I stepped inside.

"Listen, I'm late for a meeting. But uh, we'll talk later, okay?"

As the doors closed, I closed my eyes and sighed.

_I'm going crazy…_ I thought.


	3. Chapter 2: Understanding

As Crane explained to the new recruits what the all-state dinner was all about, I allowed myself to recap once more the earlier events. Everything, including the date on my computer, pointed back to the day of the accident. Crane was now overly gesturing as he told a funny story from a previous all-state, but I didn't listen. September 18th: I thought back to that day and tried to remember every single detail about that particular morning.

I remembered meeting Erin as I stepped out the elevator. If she had been wearing the same clothes as today, I couldn't say, but she did have a cup of bad coffee in her hand, which she had made some comment about. Then again, it was nothing unusual since the bad coffee was often spoken about at the Bureau. After her comment, her expression had turned serious, almost shy and nervous, and she had asked me out to that restaurant.

Then what? Had Bones called?

"And then, Deputy Director Cullen said…"

The next few words were followed by a burst of laughter. I was almost completely oblivious of what was going on around me, focused on remembering if Bones had called.

"_Aren't you going to get that?"_

The words shot through my mind. My cellphone _had_ rung. Bones _had_ called that morning. What had happened next?

I felt discouraged. I had spent so much time trying to block out the painful memories of that day, I had succeeded in forgetting about it.

_Think Seeley, THINK!_

What could I have possibly said to Bones?

"Now, since Deputy Director Cullen isn't present today, he has appointed to me select the agent who will represent the Bureau at the all-state reunion."

The all-state! That's what I had said to Bones. I had told her I couldn't talk because I had a meeting to attend. We had agreed to meet at the lab later on that day. After hanging up, I had gone to the meeting.

_Come on, Seeley. That doesn't make any sense. You _spoke_ to Bones this morning. If you were reliving that whole day, why did Crane stop by your office to tell you about the meeting?_

Because I had spoken to Bones. He had come to get me because I was late for the meeting. It had to be.

Suddenly, the puzzles all seemed to fit together. I felt a tingle of excitement at the thought. As crazy as it sounded, I was reliving the entire day. This wasn't a dream; I was willing to bet my life on it. This was for real.

_You're nuts._

Maybe I was, but it was a hypothesis I wasn't willing to through away. If, and I say if, I was reliving this whole day, I had been given a second chance; I could still alter the rest of the day.

As soon as the meeting was called to an end, I sprung to my feet and quickly made my way out of the building and through the parking lot. Despite the fact that I had "forgotten" and "been late" to the meeting, as Crane had pointed out to the entire room, I was still chosen to represent the Bureau at the all-state. Only when I reached my car did I really stop to think.

I was being completely delusional. No one could go back in time, let alone relive an entire day. I sat in the SUV and sighed. Then what? What was happening to me? How come everything pointed back to September 18th? Why had Bones called me? She couldn't have possibly called me from beyond the dead. It was absurd!

_So is your time travel,_ a tiny voice said inside my head.

Oddly enough, something still told me this was real. Somehow, my prayers had been answered. I was given a second chance. I could still change the outcome of that horrible September 18th. Erase and rewind.

As I turned on the ignition, I knew this ending would be different.


	4. Chapter 4

"I think something is wrong with Booth."

The mention of my name made my hand stop in mid-air. Their backs to me, Angela and Bones stood in front of a large screen. My eyes followed their gaze and I recognized the girl staring back at them: Christie Rogers, 16 years old. I knew how this would end, unfortunately. She had been found at the bottom of a lake, just outside of DC, dumped there by a schizophrenic wacko who was going to be judged unfit to stand trial. They would send him to a high-security psychiatric ward and the parents would be left with an unfinished sense of justice.

"What makes you say that?" Angela asked.

She was so pretty, even from behind. All those weeks away from her desperately made me want to hold her in my arms and never letting her go. Of course, she would want none of that, independent as she is. I felt a twinge of sadness, knowing she had no clue how I felt about her at this very moment.

"Well, first of all, he was talking about my _death_ that happened ten weeks ago."

"Death?" Angela asked, surprised. "Was I in a coma when it happened?"

Both of them laughed at the absurdity of the thing and I felt a spur of irritation.

"Maybe he's just tired, Sweetie."

"Maybe, but he seemed so serious," Bones replied, still unsure.

It was obvious to me they thought I was crazy. Then again, I couldn't blame them. Even I had trouble believing what was happening.

Unable to resist being far from her, I knocked softly on the door. Both turned around.

"We've found our victim," Bones announced, proudly.

Our eyes met and I felt my heart skip a beat. She was even more beautiful than I remembered. The last time I had seen her, her face was bloodied and her body had been all tangled up in her car.

"Yeah, I know. It's Christie Rogers," I said, trying to push back the images from the accident.

She frowned.

"How did you know that?"

They already thought I was crazy for thinking Bones was dead. I wasn't going to let them think that I had also turned psychic. I glanced quickly at the screen, hoping to find something that could save my butt.

"It's right there on the screen."

Bones nodded. She was now looking at me strangely, and that's when I felt it: the overwhelming rush of guilt and helplessness I always felt when I thought of her after the accident. The urge to hold her in my arms grew stronger. I turned my attention back to the screen, hoping my eyes weren't betraying how I felt inside.

"Tell me about her."

Her voice was like music to my ears as I listened to her read from Christie's file. Slowly, her voice seemed to drift away until I barely heard what she was saying. It had dawned on me that I had to stop her from coming over to my place tonight. I couldn't possibly just tell her bluntly to stay home. First of all, I knew she wouldn't obey. Second of all, she would ask me why I thought she would come over to my apartment in the first place. She already suspected I was going crazy. Her assumptions would turn out right if I'd tell her I'd crash into her car later on tonight and that I would end up killing her.

"Booth!"

I snapped back to reality.

"What?"

"You're not listening," she replied in an accusatory tone.

"Yes, I was," I lied. "You said Christie was a student at Lincoln High school. She disappeared three months ago while walking home from dance lesson. The police first suspected her older boyfriend, Rick Lancaster, 23, of abducting her but his alibi for that afternoon checked out. Having no other leads, the cops were forced to drop the case."

She looked at me, unconvinced but satisfied by my answer.

"So, what do we do now?"

"We go talk to the parents," I answered, feeling a wave of happiness wash over me.

We were back!

* * *

The last time we had visited the Rogers, our conversation hadn't gone too well. Bones had managed to piss off the father, which had ended in me getting punched in the jaw for stepping in between them. We had left the house, my jaw throbbing and angry at my partner for being so insensitive with the parents. Maybe this was where I was supposed to change the day. I'd make sure the meeting went smoothly, that Bones didn't anger anyone. No one would get punched, and maybe I wouldn't need to go out with Erin to take my mind off my bad day.

The Rogers lived in an upper middle class neighbourhood. The houses were all big, the lawn were neatly kept, almost to perfection. This perfection made me edgy, almost aggressive and frustrated.

Christie's parents resembled their neighbourhood: their house was tidy, everything in its right spot; Mary Rogers's hair would be tied in a bun on the top of her head, not a single hair out of place, and her clothes would be wrinkleless. This type of perfection would have made any teenager feel out of place and eager to get out. That is why Christie had taken up those dance classes, her dance instructor had told the agent who had taken on the case. She had needed to get away.

Bones followed me to the door. I rang, and the doorbell chimed on the other side of the door, just as I remembered it. Seconds later, as if she had been expecting us, Mrs. Rogers opened the door, her clothes the same as they had been the first time. We introduced ourselves and Christie's mother let us in. We waited in the living room while she went to get her husband.

"Everything is so… clean," Bones said, as she looked around the room.

"I know. No wonder Christie wanted out of this house."

Her head snapped in my direction and I knew I had made another mistake.

"How do you know she ran away? The file said she disappeared after dance class."

"I never said she ran away, Bones."

I had to justify my answer. I thought quickly and said the first thing that came to mind.

"But you see it all the times. The parents are rich and controlling. Their houses are too neat, too perfect, compared to how their children actually feel in their minds. According to them, their lives are hectic and disorganise. They feel trap in their parents' world and they want out. So, they leave the comfort of their homes and go somewhere they feel freer."

Bones scoffed.

"That's psychology, Booth. You know how I feel about it. Good luck explaining that to her parents."

I sighed, half in relief that she bought my explanation, half in frustration that she didn't believe the truth of what I was saying. I was about to reply when the Rogers walked in the room. Lowering my voice so only she heard me, I whispered:

"Just let _me_ do the talking."

"Fine," she replied in a hushed voice.

I introduced myself once again and invited them to sit down, which they did. The last time I had spoken to them, they had reacted badly to the news of their only daughter's death. I cleared my throat, preparing myself mentally to relive that conversation.

"I'm guessing you're here to talk to us about Christie." Mr. Rogers said, before I had the chance to speak.

That took care of it.

"I'm sure you heard about the body found in the lake, just outside of DC."

Mrs. Rogers nodded while her husband remained still. His eyes were staring straight at me, as though daring me to tell them I had found their daughter.

"We have reasons to believe that the remains belonged to your daughter."

Similar to the last time, Mrs. Rogers let out a cry of despair before letting a river of tears pour from her eyes. Mr. Rogers remained calmed, his fists clenched on his lap, the twitch in his jaw the only clue to the emotional despair going on inside of him.

"You're sure it's our Christie?" he asked in a rough voice.

Bones and I looked at each other.

"Yes. Dr. Brennan's colleague was able to draw a sketch using the tissue markers provided by Dr. Brennan. Using the sketch, we searched in the missing person's database for a match. We are very sorry for your lost."

"How… I mean, how did she die?" Mrs. Rogers asked, in a choked-up voice.

It was Bones who answered that question.

"We found evidence of blood trauma in her skull, suggesting there had been massive internal bleeding prior to her death. No cause of death has been established so far."

I looked over at Bones. So far, she was being polite and hadn't given the family too many details. I had to admit I was surprised.

"What happened on the day Christie disappeared?" I asked, even though I already knew.

It was Mr. Rogers who answered.

"Nothing unusual, if that's what you mean. She woke up, left for school, and was due to return home after her dance class. Her teachers assured us she was at school. Her dance teacher also said she showed up for class and she saw her leave when it was over. She just never came home."

"Did you notice anything different about her? How was her mood that day?"

"James and Christie had an argument," Mrs. Rogers answered.

"Mary!"

"They _have_ to know, James. If they find out later on, they'll think you've killed her."

I pretended to be surprised by her comment. I knew what was coming.

"James and Christie didn't get along very well. They argued a lot, which led to a lot of door slamming."

"She was always defying my authority," Mr. Rogers cut in. "She didn't respect curfew, she was arrogant. When I confronted her about it, she'd talk back. That morning, I told her I'd have enough of her attitude, that if she didn't change her ways, we'd send her away to live with her grandparents."

"That's it?"

I knew it was, but somehow I felt the need to ask anyway.

"Yes, Agent Booth. That is it."

"Do you think it's possible that she might have run away?"

Mrs. Rogers gasped.

"Christie? Running away? _Never_. Christie was happy here. She went to the best dance school in Washington, had a lot of friends at school, and, even if we did disapprove of their relationship, she had a boyfriend whom she loved. Her life was perfect, Agent Booth. Christie would never have run away from that."

"It doesn't take much to tick a teenager off," I suggested.

And before Bones could add anything else to that, like she had done the last time, I gently touched her arm and stood up. I thanked them for their time and walked back to the door. To my surprised, they walked us back to the door.

"It's so horrible. Christie was just a child."

I turned around to face Christie's mother. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot but she was no longer crying. I smiled sympathetically at her.

"I know. We are both very sorry for your loss, Mr. and Mrs. Rogers. Christie was a very beautiful young woman."

"Thank you," Mr. Rogers replied, in a calm manner.

"If only I had picked her up after dance class, instead of letting her walk home, maybe she would still be alive."

A lump had formed inside my throat.

"Maybe."

"If only we could go back in time, right Agent Booth?"

I simply nodded.

This uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach followed me all the way back to the Jeffersonian. Mary Rogers's words still echoed in my ears. _If only we could go back in time, right Agent Booth?_ If only she had known what had happened to him. I had somehow been granted that opportunity. Why? To save Bones? To save myself? Was there something else I was supposed to accomplish tonight? There was no way I would have been granted that wish for no reason.

I dropped Bones off at the lab and went back to the Bureau. The last time, I hadn't worked the Rogers case. In fact, I had been given a two-week sick leave to mourn my partner's death. When I had come back to work, Agent Fuller had already taken the case. There were still so many things to deal with: I'd have interviews to conduct and I still needed to find the schizophrenic man who had killed her.

I knew one thing. To save Bones, I needed to decline Erin's offer.

* * *

I stepped out of the elevator to find Erin talking to another agent. When she spotted her, her face lit up.

"Seeley!"

The agent she was talking to immediately walked away.

"I was wondering if you had given my invitation some thought," she said, straight to the point.

"Actually, I did. Listen, Erin. I don't think I can go out with you tonight."

"Okay. How about some other night?"

She sure was persistent.

"I meant, I don't think I can go out with you _at all_. There's… actually, there's someone else in my life at the moment."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry."

I truly felt sorry. I had had a really good time with her, when we had gone to the restaurant. Erin was such a sweet girl, but if I wanted to save Bones, I couldn't go to that restaurant tonight or, deep down inside, any other night.

"Don't worry about me, Seeley. It's not the end of the world."

Maybe not the end of her world, but it had the end of mine the first time.


End file.
